Corruption
by Superster
Summary: The corruption of an angel is an amazing thing. But when you lie down with dogs you get fleas, and corruption can go both ways... Megstiel, Meg's POV. One-Shot.


**Disclaimer: I do not own Supernatural and I'm writing for enjoyment, not profit.**

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Corruption:

It feels damn good to corrupt an angel.

I mean, corrupting humans is great. It's my job, really. Or at least it was.

But an angel? There's _nothing_ like it. Someone so powerful, so pretentious, so….good, stooping to your level? It gives you a high like you wouldn't believe.

It all started out of habit, really. When you've spent centuries tempting men (Women too, but I have my specialties.) into sin, the ever-so-slightly naughty flirting and the swiveling of the hips _just so_ is just second nature. Hell, it IS my nature. You can't help how you're made.

The Winchesters? They're a lost cause. You try to kill someone one time too many and then all of a sudden your womanly wiles, no matter how wily, just don't work. It's all right, though. They didn't need any help getting to hell. They managed just fine on their own. My meatsuit certainly appreciates the eye-candy, but our "working" relationship is going to stay that way.

Then there's Clarence. My beautiful bad angel. I gave him the nickname on a whim, but his look of confusion was so adorable that I've kept using it, just to watch him tilt his head in the puzzlement, looking for all the world like a rumpled blue-eyed kitten.

It started out small. I didn't see him all that often. Flirting both obvious and subtle, a stray touch here and there. Like I said, the habitual stuff. I don't know what I was thinking trying it on an angel, even if he was an exiled-rebellious-conflicted-massively-screwed-up one, but I did.

And it worked. Or at least it started to.

He would respond to my taunts in his calm, measured, serious way instead of just ignoring them. He stopped shying away from my touch. I'd catch him watching me when I wasn't looking, instead of avoiding acknowledging me.

That was one response I didn't enjoy that much, actually. He could see my true face, the one that I keep hidden underneath the pretty skin of my meatsuit, so I could never tell which me he was looking at. It made me uncomfortable, which I hated.

But against all odds or logic, I was having an effect on him.

So I upped my game. But not too quickly, I didn't want to scare him off.

He didn't make it easy for me. Sometimes the only way I'd get his attention was through helping out on a job or treating the Winchesters slightly nicer than I thought absolutely necessary. When he did notice, he'd give me his little almost-smile and I'd feel a fluttering in my stomach that was… satisfaction. I'm sure of it.

He'd surprise me sometimes, too. When the hellhounds were coming and I kissed him as a distraction to steal his sword, (a two-for-one sort of arrangement, in my opinion. He does have an incredibly attractive meatsuit and damn is it fun to be someone's first kiss.) I was expecting the collective looks of shock from everyone in the group. I most certainly wasn't expecting the ocean-blue eyes searing into my own, the room spinning as he whirled me around and the delicious feeling of being trapped between the unyielding wall and the unyielding Angel of Thursdays. _Satan_ his lips were soft. He left me breathing hard, struggling to pull my thoughts together and realizing that it had been far too long since I'd actually enjoyed a kiss. They were a means to an end.

But damn. If I'd known about angel kisses before now I'd have tried seducing one decades ago. Granted, this likely would have resulted in smiting and another stay in the Hotel Hell for me for a while, but it would have been worth it.

Of course it made me start thinking about what the sex would be like, but unfortunately there were other priorities.

Then he was gone and then he was back and then the stupid idiot made himself sick because he had to be a martyr and save the day.

I don't know what I was thinking, waiting there for him to wake up, hoping he would wake up. I told myself it was just another opportunity to further corrupt him.

But then he opened his eyes and it was just…relief. And anger. And anger at my own relief. And that stupid fluttering when he called me a "Thorny beauty", whatever the hell that means.

And then I was gone. And then he found me again, looking for the Winchesters.

And then I was gone. And then I found him again.

He held my arm with hands that were too gentle, bandaging my wounds, and I found myself inviting him to play "pizza man". And he agreed. And I realized something.

I'd done it. I'd corrupted an angel.

It felt damn good.

But….when you lie down with dogs, you can't avoid the fleas. Especially when those dogs have rumpled hair and a far-too-rare smile and have never seen It's A Wonderful Life and defend you even though you don't deserve it and you never have.

I've been corrupted by an angel.

And the worst part?

It feels damn good.

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**A/N: Hello everyone! This is my first published fanfiction and I would love to hear any feedback you might have. Reviews are to me like pie is to Dean! Hope you enjoyed. ~Superster**


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